Dreamer
by Raven Salazar Potter-Black
Summary: When Harry Potter is five years old, he discovers that a single moment, or in his case, a dream, can change you life. Fae, Vampires, Werewolves, and things he has never even imagined, and in the midst of them, a Dreamer is created.
1. Prologue

**Important An: This will be SLASH! Don't like, don't read. And please, no flames. This is my first story and I worked really hard on this!**

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Pain...that is, in essence, my world. It describes me, it is who I am, it is all I ever feel. You could almost say that that is my name. Who knows... maybe it is. I couldn't tell you. I don't know my name. After all, why would they tell me, when they fill my world with pain?

With pain comes many other things. You have to be smart and a fast learner if you want to survive in a world of pain, so you learn what not to say or do, you learn what you should and have to do to avoid it. You learn the parts of your body that hurt the least, you you can move so they hit you there instead of somewhere that can cause permanent damage. You can learn a lot from pain.

There is also maturity. You have to be mature, and along with that, control yourself well. If you cry because of something they do, they will do it again and again, until it destroys you - or until you learn not to cry, until you learn to hide how much it hurts. If you smile over something, they will take it away from you, no matter what it is, and they will not let you get is, or a replacement for it ever again, no matter what it takes. That is how they will take your happiness away from you - unless you learn to hide your happiness, how not to smile, or laugh, or grin. But showing pain is the worst thing you can do. No matter what kind of pain it is, you have to hide it. No crying out, no groaning, flinching, or grimacing, you can't even clench your fists or bite your lip. If you show pain, they'll make it happen again and again, until you wish you would die, or go insane, anything to get away from the pain - until you learn how to hide it, so not even the slightest hint of it in your eyes.

Most people aren't strong enough to do this. When you learn your lessons from pain, they become your life, and people will not understand why you do things that could potentially mean life or death for you. They won't understand why you always look around a room for other doors or windows, ways to get out in an emergency. They can never understand why you rarely talk, but you understand that one word can turn someone into a greedy, merciless killer, a kind stranger, or the nicest person in the world even though they live in a cardboard box. Also, some people cannot handle the maturity. Some break, letting all their emotions free. Others, they don't let themselves feel the emotions inside them, they shove them down until they don't exist anymore. Those ones become shells, walking around the world, talking, eating, doing everything normally, until you realize that they don't have any emotions at all.

But some people are strong. They can handle it, even though they will seem strange to others. People like me can make it through the pain. Of course, I am not exactly what you would call normal, not at all. Some people call me a freak, or devil's spawn. Others call me a child prodigy, a miracle, a gift from god. Even though it may not seem like it, I am only seven years old. While most kids were reading their first chapter books, I was reading Pride and Prejudice, though they didn't know that. I have to hide everything from them. They can never know how smart I truly am, how much I really know. You see, they are my family, if you can call them that. They are my aunt, Petunia, my uncle, Vernon, and my cousin, Dudley, the Dursleys. They say my parents were drunks who killed themselves in a car crash, but I know better than that. They were murdered, murdered by a man who was after me.

How do I know? I saw it. I see lots of things in my dreams, but I never tell them. If they did, they would just hit me harder, they would hurt me worse then I already am. I am seven years old, but because of them, I am more mature that most teenagers, but also because of them, I am the size of a three year old and covered in scars.

There is one scar, worse than the rest. It is at the top of my back, not too high though, easy enough to hide. What makes it worse than the rest of them though, is what it is. I can not remember when I got it, or why, but I know that it is there, taunting me, teasing me, always rubbing it in like they do with salt on a cut. Seven parts, seven scars, seven letters, in a seven letter word.

MONSTER.


	2. Dreams and Meetings

**An: This will probably be the only time I update twice at once. I had them both on the computer I am using, so I posted them both. I have chapter 2 finished (I think) so I will hopefully be able to post it soon. I had the papers with them in my pocket at a friends house, I lost them and haven't gotten them back yet. I really hope I find them soon! On to the chapter!**

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I know that I am dreaming, and I know that this is going to be an important dream. I always do, in dreams. I can tell you whether you a going to have a nightmare tonight, or I can make you have a nightmare. I can tell you whether you dream is going to happen, or I can give you a dream of something that will happen. I can tell you whether you are going to dream of the future, or give you a dream of the future. I can also tell you what you dreamed of last night, or the night before, or that night 2 years ago when you dreamed of that strange family on 001 Cemetery Lane. I am the master of dreams, a dreamer, you could say.

I am getting a little off track though, would you not agree? I am standing in the middle of a clearing in a dark forest. I can sense that there are dangerous creatures in the forest, but that I am safe here. In front of me there is a raging river, certainly to dangerous to cross. It is separating me from the other side of the clearing, where I can see many figures. Only one of them is clear enough for me to see. He has wild silver hair, and silvery eyes. He looks to be getting on in years, but I can sense that he is much older than he looks. He steps forwards, revealing pale skin. He spoke to me then, in a slightly rasping voice, but one that is full of wisdom.

" Every journey starts with one step, young dreamer, and for you, that first step is to be with me. You must come visit me tomorrow, and you will never have to go back to your relatives again."

I opened my mouth to speak, to protest that I will not go with a stranger such as himself, but he raises a hand to stop me.

" Young dreamer, feel it for yourself. Is this not your own realm, where your power is at it's greatest? Surely you have the ability to sense that I offer you no danger."

I knew that he was right, I knew that the instant I saw him that he would be no danger to me, but growing up as I have, you can never be too careful.

" Your intentions are honest and your will is pure, so tell me one thing and I shall find you tomorrow. Tell me your name." I replied, speaking in the same manner as himself.

" I am a friend, child. When you come, I shall tell you more. You will know where to find me when you wake. I can not say anything more, you must wake!"

The dream started fading out, and I could vaguely hear a banging. I woke up completely just as my uncle opened the door to my cupboard.

"Freak, get out of there! We're going to London today, and we're not going to leave you here to use your freakishness to destroy the house!"

I was dragged out of mu cupboard, out of the house, and tossed in to the back seat next to my cousin Dudley, who appeared to be fatter than he was tall.

When we got to London, they tossed me out of the car. I got up to see that they had driven off without me. I suppose I should not be surprised, they have been saying that they should have gotten rid of me ages ago for as long as I can remember, but still. For it to happen now, today, right after a dream like that, I must have used my powers subconsciously.

I remember how the man said that I would know how to get to him when I woke up, and focused on him, on finding him, and as if a switch had been flicked, I knew exactly where to go. I walked down two streets, then turned right and walked straight to the corner. I had never noticed it before, but right on the corner is an old pub, looking a bit worse for wear, called the leaky cauldron.I was unsure of whether I should go in or not, but that is where the directions were leading me, so I walked in.

I walked straight through the pub without being noticed in the general hustle and bustle of the rest of the patrons, of which there were a lot. I was guided by the directions to a small, unremarkable door in the back of the pub, so I walked through. I saw a man, the one who spoke to me in my dream. He walked up to me.

"Hello child"


	3. Harry has a hissy fit!

**Newest chapter everybody! It's been a while, but chapters will come faster now! I uploaded this chapter on my new computer, which was an early birthday present. Yes everybody, my birthday is in nine days! YAY ME! Anyways, definitely the longest chapter yet, longer than both my other chapters combined! It is 2683 words long! Happy Reading!**

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"I'm not a child!" Snapped Harry. "I have been through too much to be a child." He said, his voice calmer but colder, more emotionless than before. The man in front of him sighed sadly, looking at him with something akin to pity. "I do not want your pity. Please, treat me as you would any other adult." Harry said, once again his voice cold, but it softened and took on a slightly pleading tone at the end. "Of course Harry" Replied the man.

"My name is Garrick Ollivander. I am a master wand maker, a Wandmaster. I work in a shop here." The man, Ollivander, said. "Please call me Garrick." "Alright. Could we perhaps continue this conversation somewhere a bit more private?" Their conversation was starting to attract a bit of attention. After all, it was not often that Ollivander was seen out of his shop, much less talking with a child who appeared to be around 3 years old! Apparently Garrick had noticed the same, and said, "Of course. Let us head to my shop. It is most often frequented in late July and as it is only around the middle of June, there should not be much of a problem." "Thank you." Replied Harry Gratefully. Ollivander wiped everyone's memories of their conversation, and then they were on their way.

A couple minutes later they were in the shop. Harry liked it instantly. He could feel the power thrumming in the air, he could feel the presence of each and every wand, knew instantly what each was made of, how much power it could handle, how rare each material was, everything. The wonder must have shown on his face, as Garrick gave him a small smile. "Incredible, is it not?" He asked. "I have many things to talk to you about, including that. Let us head upstairs to my house for this conversation. It is much more comfortable there." He continued, his tone kind.

When they were upstairs, Garrick went to the kitchen. "Tea?" He offered, returning with two steaming mugs. "Yes, please." Replied Harry gratefully. He took the opportunity to look around the room. It was a humble home. All the furniture was made of wood, and while obviously handcrafted, was masterfully done and looked to be very comfortable and sturdy. The walls, also made of wood, were embellished with different shades of varnish painted artfully and intricately with brushes.

One side of the room was covered in bookshelves, all overflowing. From what he could see, most were about magic and wand lore. Another side of the room was only a half wall, and showed the kitchen on the other side. The third wall was covered in portraits. 'Are those moving?' He thought, fascinated. It was the last wall, however, that caught his attention the most. The wall was covered in shelves. Each section of shelf was split in to two parts. Each part had a wand in it. All of the wands were in display cases with their own label with a name and date. The labels also said what each wand was made of.

Apparently Garrick had noticed his fascination with the shelves, as he said, "Those are the most important possessions in my family. They are the first wand a new apprentice makes, and the wand they used, which is the wand they used to seal the wards. Each of the wands possesses both magical and spiritual power. They ground the wards on this building, and allow us to learn our family history. You see, our family history is not passed from parent to child, but from Wandmaster to Apprentice. The Ollivander family is a family created by the magic in the bonds formed by the bonding ceremony between a master and his or her apprentice. Indeed, in some cases that is between parent and child, or grandparent and grandchild, but that is very rare." Ollivander stood up and walked over to one of the shelves. He pointed to a split section near the top, which only had the first part filled. "That is the first wand I ever made. Judging by your reaction in the shop, you can sense the wands?" He paused and Harry nodded. "Then you can sense how much more powerful and advanced this wand is then most other first wands?" Once again, Harry nodded. "That is because I am one of the most powerful Ollivanders ever. But I can sense that you are much more powerful than I ever was, or will ever be."

Harry was shocked, then angry. "_Why should I believe you_?" He snapped icily. "You've been _nothing_ but nice to me, but I _know_ I'm famous in this world, I _know_ that many people would have done _**anything**_ to get on my good side. You probably just want to _control_ me, for me to be your little '_pawn'_ who has to do _anything you say_ because of these silly _'bonds'_ of yours! Well you know what? I'm _**LEAVING**_! And I'm _never_ coming back!" Harry sneered one final time to a shocked and rather saddened Garrick, turned around, and left. He didn't once look back.

Harry was storming angrily down the stairs, when he started changing. The magic from every wand in the store was surrounding him, changing him. His angry storming faded, and he stopped. Garrick ran down the stairs behind him, but stopped when he saw the glow surrounding Harry. He had never seen the wands react like this to anyone before. He noticed Harry changing, and realized that they were taking the true Harry, and bringing him to the outside. He knew that after this, Harry would believe him, and that Harry would be angry and blame himself for his reaction. He also realized that He would have to explain to Harry what had happened to himself and the new-found control over his emotions, reactions, other people's minds, and increased control over dreams. Garrick sighed to himself. 'This is _not _going to be fun.

Meanwhile, Harry was frozen where he was. He could not move, nor see, nor react to anything around him. He had no clue at all what was going on, and that bothered him. He promised to himself, 'As soon as this is done, I am going to _kill _Garrick! He probably just wanted to keep me here!' He was positive that was what he was going to do, and he was going to do it.

Harry was shocked when the magic abruptly left him. As much as he hated to admit it, it was rather soothing, and he had gotten used to it. He was about to whirl around and yell at Garrick, when he noticed the hair at his elbows. He looked up and was shocked to notice that it was his hair, and then further shocked when he followed it down and realized that it ended at his waist. No longer angry, but confused and scared, Harry turned towards Garrick. "What happened to me?"

Garrick's heart went out to the boy when he heard that small, unsure and childlike voice. He had to remind himself that as much as he may not act like it, Harry was only seven years old. He continued down the steps and put a supporting hand on Harry's shoulder. "Come." He said. "I think you deserve a _very_ thorough explanation." He said to the young child. Harry nodded fervently, making Garrick chuckle.

When they got back to Garrick's house, they sat back down the same as they were earlier. Harry, still getting used to his new appearance, which included a rather large change in height, stumbled more than a few times on their way up. He was feeling quite grateful to Garrick, who hadn't laughed once, just supported him silently.

"Harry," Started Garrick. Harry interrupted gently, raising his hand. "I am very sorry, Garrick. You did not deserve my outburst, nor my anger. I do not know why I reacted as I did, and if I could, I would change my past actions. You have indeed been nothing but nice to me, and by no means did you deserve that." Harry said softly and apologetically. Garrick smiled at him, much more relaxed, as he had been tense, wondering if Harry had still been mad at him. "Please Garrick, explain to me what happened. I am a completely different person now, and I do not know why." Continued Harry pleadingly, almost desperately. "Of course." Smiled Garrick.

"As I said before, you have the power to be one of the greatest Wandmasters the world has seen. This is because of your unique situation. You have, I'm sure, noticed your unique control over dreams? Harry nodded. It HAD been rather obvious when he was at his _home _with the Dursleys, considering that they always yelled at him about their '_freakish dreams that they never would have had if he hadn't come around!' _Harry nodded. "You see, that is not a normal ability for wizards. In fact, you are the first person with this ability in hundreds of years. I believe the last person with the same talents as you died three hundred and forty-three years ago. You, my friend, are what is called a Dreamer." Garrick explained. He paused here, waiting to see if Harry had a reaction to that.

Harry wasn't sure what to think. He had been told many strange things, and had seen even more, but to be called some sort of magical creature? That was just a bit _too_ strange, even for him. "What do you mean, I'm a Dreamer? I would have known if I was some sort of magical creature!" Said Harry, quite confused. "That is just the thing, Harry. Dreamers are not magical creatures. They are created, not at birth, but during the first five to ten years of their lives. They go through hell, but they are well rewarded. You see Harry, the people who become Dreamers are the people who are not loved, who are locked in darkness, who depend on their magic to heal them and keep them alive. They are the ones who appreciate magic, who accept that it is not a tool, that it is alive, and that it is only it's kindness that allows our kind to continue. That is why there are so few of them. Many muggleborn's and half-blood's are abused, but none or very few of them realize that it is their magic keeping them alive, and most of those that do, they do not believe that magic is alive. But you, you did. You knew that magic was alive, and that it is keeping it alive, and that is why you are a Dreamer."

"Garrick, you explained to me how a Dreamer occurs, but not what they are" Insisted a rather annoyed Harry. "Of course! My apologies Harry. Dreamers are creatures of magic, as they embrace magic, it embraces them. They often do not need to use a wand, if they immerse themselves in magic early and thoroughly enough. They can manipulate the magic around them to suit themselves, most often using it for good, as they grew up knowing only evil. They can also manipulate dreams, hence the name. Dreams are all they had growing up, so they believe dreams can do anything. _That _is why Dreamers have such unique power over dreams. But that is not all. They also have control over emotions, being able to control the way other people feel and react to certain situations. For example, in a situation where people are scared and not action rationally, you could calm them down and make them think more like themselves, more intelligently, so that they could get the problem resolved easier. So you see Harry, you are indeed quite unique and powerful. What I am hoping is that you use your power for good, rather than evil."

After hearing all of this, Harry didn't quite know what to think. He was _that_ powerful? It was quite hard to take in. He raised a hand to run it through his hair, which was a nervous habit of his, and remembered the last thing they had to talk about. "I have to say Garrick, that was not at all what I was expecting, but you still have not explained my new appearance." Harry finally decided on saying. "Oh dear. I really am being forgetful today." Said Garrick, obviously amused by his own forgetfulness. "What I believe happened is that the magic in the wands felt your agitation and refusal of who you are, and decided to remedy that by bringing who you are inside, your character and personality, and transferred that to your appearance. Basically, your appearance is now a perfect replica of your personality. My recommendation to you is that you go and look in a mirror. I do believe that you will be quite shocked and pleased at what you see." Said Garrick.

Harry followed Garrick's directions to the loo. He saw the full length mirror, and went to stand in front of it. To put it lightly, he was shocked. And yet, there was definitely something pleasing about it as well. He definitely felt that it showed the world who he was, and to him, that was the most important thing.

His appearance was definitely unique, to understate majorly. His hair was waist length, and he had the feeling that it would never grow, and that anybody's attempts to cut it would be in vain. It was still midnight black, only it had striking silver and blood red streaks starting about half-way down and continuing to the bottom, until it hit the emerald green and pure gold tips. The colours in his hair seemed to glow, while the black was so pure, it was as if one was looking in to an abyss. To put it mildly, it created a very striking and unique look to his hair.

His face had taken on delicate, angled and dare he say it, a rather feminine appearance. While most boys would find that rather displeasing and embarrassing, he liked the way it made him look. His nose was perfectly proportioned to the rest of his face, his lips full and a soft pink, while his eyes were a bit large, and slightly slanted, giving him an ethereal look which was enhanced by his pale skin that was practically glowing with health, and his eyes, which had taken more of a striking emerald green with icy blue streaks radiating from the center, as opposed to the previous killing-curse green they had been before.

The rest of his body had taken on a lithe, athletic figure with streamlined curves, once again giving him a rather feminine look. His body looked all in all rather feminine, with the delicate facial features, small lithe body and long hair, but he didn't mind. He liked the fact that people would most likely under-estimate him, before he proved them wrong.

He went back to where Garrick was sitting, and grinned cheerfully. "I love it!" He proclaimed excitedly. "Now, what was that you were saying about an apprenticeship earlier?" He asked, eagerly awaiting the answer, until he thought of something. "That is, if you are still considering it after the way I treated you earlier." He said sadly and apologetically, biting his lip as he looked down, ashamed, embarrassed, and guilty of what he did earlier. Garrick sighed. "Of course I still wish for you to be my apprentice, Harry! You are an eager, exited and friendly child, with the power and ability needed already within you. Also, we do not need to disguise you, as your appearance is completely different and your scar invisible. The only question left is if you would like to become my apprentice." Said Garrick, a twinkle in his eye. "Of course!" Yelled Harry happily and excitedly. Garrick chuckled. This apprentice was going to be quite a handful, and an exciting adventure for both of them. Yes, he mused to himself. This was going to be fun.


	4. Wands and Bonds

**Hey guys, newest chapter! I will be calling Harry by his new name that he gets in this chapter from now on, sorry if it gets a bit confusing. I promise you'll get used to it! Also, I have made the decision that when I am done writing and posting the story, I will go through all the chapters and fill them a bit, adding more detail and background, and also some more filler so it is a bit longer and makes some more sense. I am not doing it now because I know how irritating it is when authors stop writing stories so they can go back and edit and it ends up taking months and months, plus I really want to get this written. ALSO! School is ****_FINALLY_****over so my updates will speed up... unless I get writer's block again. I am sorry if the formatting is a bit weird, It would not let me upload the document so I had to copy and paste ? . Happy reading!**

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Harry was excited. He had slept over at Garrick's house after they had finished speaking about his apprenticeship. He had decided he wanted to learn wandmaking, and they were going to start today. Of course, even with his new appearance, he couldn't keep his old name, so they decided to call him Coren after a stray owl one of Garrick's friends had named Coren had swept in during breakfast and stole some of his bacon right off his fork.

Garrick came up the stairs. "Come down Coren, it is time to start your first lesson in wandmaking." Garrick said, his tone calm yet slightly anticipatory. Coren jumped up, excited, and ran down the stairs, passing right by Garrick. Coren turned around once he was at the bottom of the stairs. "Um, where are we having the lessons?" He asked sheepishly. Garrick chuckled, amused by Coren's antics. "Follow me." He said, walking past Coren in to the back room and through a mostly hidden door.

Coren found himself in a large room full of shelves. There were hundreds of different kinds of wood, all perfectly organized into piles of the different kinds, different water saturation, different affinities. There were bins on the shelves too, all of them full of different ingredients. He saw the standard ingredients, like unicorn hairs, dragon heartstrings, phoenix feathers, but he also saw unique ingredients, ones to be used in the most powerful wands, custom wands tailored to exactly match a persons magical signature. He saw dementor's blood, willingly given unicorn blood, fire horse tail hair, basilisk venom, 'How would someone work with that without it dissolving the wand?' He wondered. He also saw basilisk fang, werewolf fur, veela hair, and countless other ingredients that he had never heard of. He was amazed.

"Welcome to the workshop, Coren." Said Garrick. "This is where I make every wand, and where you shall have your lessons. Head over to the desk, we shall start with what ingredients have what affinity, and how to combine ingredients with different affinities safely."

Coren sat down at the desk, in what was obviously the student section for apprentices to sit, if the fact that it was lower and had much more basic tools and less in it was any indication. Garrick followed and sat down in his part of the desk, and took out four different samples of wood. "Now, since you obviously have a quite advanced sensing ability, I want you to try and figure out what each of these wood's affinities are." Said Garrick.

Coren looked at the first wood. It was a very pretty kind of wood, the sample looked to be silver with a few white swirls on it. It sent shivers down his back for some reason. He focused his power on it, and nearly gasped. It felt imposing, threatening, dominating. It had a strange taste of copper and spices, and to his mental 'eye', it was swirling with blacks and reds. "Dark. Definitely dark." He said, pointing to the first wand. "Correct. It is yew, which is a tree that represents death. It is only used with ingredients with neutral or light affinities, as if you used dark with it, both you and the user would be driven insane by the strength of the darkness in it, if it didn't kill you first." Explained Garrick. Coren gulped. That was not something he _ever _wanted to forget.

He looked at the second piece of wood. It was a warm shade of golden-brown, with swirls of darker and lighter shades of the colour throughout it. It gave him a warm sense of protection. He focused his power on it, and smiled. It gave him a sense of familiarity, protection and honesty. It had the smell of hot chocolate on a cold day, fresh cut lawns, freshly baked cookies, all reminding him of what true family is. "Light." He said firmly, pointing to it. "Indeed. It is a strictly magical kind of tree, muggles have never had the fortune to find it, and most wizards appreciate that as it means that this is still and easy to find tree. Many wizards and witches like to have at least one thing made of this wood in their home. As such, it is called 'homewood' unofficially. Officially, it is known as craywood. It is only used with light and neutral ingredients, as even with the best of techniques and resources, no Wandmaster has ever found a way to combine it with dark ingredients as the wood is just too light. This wood is also very versatile, being what the majority of furniture in the wizarding world is made of." Said Garrick, seeming quite fond of the wood.

The third piece of wood puzzled Coren. It was a general brown, with very little colour varitation at all. It did not seem good or evil. Suddenly Coren realized what that meant. "It's neutral, isn't it?" He asked, sure he had gotten it right. "Yes, it is made of maple, which is native to Canada. Canada is famous in the wizarding world for not discriminating between dark and light magic, allowing everyone to practice what they wish." Garrick said. "Wouldn't it make sense if -" Coren was cut off when Garrick interrupted, saying "That is something to talk about at another time, Coren. Indeed, we shall speak of that matter as soon as possible." Coren was satisfied at that answer, knowing that Garrick wasn't one to break his word.

The last piece of wood was beautiful. Pure white and black spirals twisting perfectly even around each other, never once breaking the spiral. Coren extended his senses towards the wood and gasped. He was hit by an intoxicating wave of power, both pure as day and as dark as night at the same time. He tasted copper and spices at the same time he tasted sugars and mint, he felt threatened yet comforted at the same time, the feeling was indescribable. He felt a strong connection to the wood immediately. He was completely overwhelmed, he could not get the words out. "It – I – Both – What?" He stuttered out. Garrick straight out laughed at him. "Quite the rush isn't it? It is a combination of two woods, hence the swirling white and black, and the combined feelings. It is made of two kinds of magical wood that muggles do not know exists, the death tree and the tree of life. Now, muggles do have stories about the tree of life, but very few, if any, come close to getting it right. There is not only one, but all of them are connected. The elves protect the forest of life, which is their home, and also the only place to find life trees. They are all connected to a tree in the center, which is the tallest of them all, being over twice the size of the other trees. All the other trees in the forest grew from that first trees roots. The death tree has a very different story. In ancient days, people believed that dying at the death tree brought great fortune upon their family, so they would ask to be brought to the death tree when they were about to die. You see, there is only one death tree, and it is in a magical realm that can only be reached if you know it is there and you know how to get there. If you are meant to get there, then you will. Now, back to the story. When someone died at the base of the death tree, the magic of the realm would make a cut on them, and their bodies would bleed out on to the tree. This made the tree have not only an amazing connection with those of each species that were blessed by magic herself, but to have a connection with death. Those few people that magic has blessed are the only ones that can wield wands and weapons with the wood of the death tree in it without dying from the magic imbued with the blood of hundreds of different races and people. You, Coren, are one of those people. This is the wood we shall use to make your wand." Said Garrick.

Coren felt that he should sense the wood once more, so he did. "This blend of life and death, dark and light, shall be you and yours, as you are the epitome of life, yet the eyes of death, you have seen both and lived both, and with the knowledge and power granted to you by this wand and magic herself, you shall change the world." Those words echoed in Coren's head. He knew that that was something to keep to himself, so without a word about that, he asked Garrick, "When do we begin finding the ingredients?" Asked Coren, not hesitating at all. "Right now." Said Garrick firmly, pulling out different ingredients to be tested.

The first ingredient was unicorn hair. Coren sensed it with his power, but discarded it immediately. His magic revolted against it the instant it came in contact with it. The second ingredient, phoenix feather, was even worse. The instant he sensed it, the feather burst in to flames. The third ingredient, dragon heartstring, was a bit better, but still not right. Garrick came to the conclusion that the standard ingredients would not work for him, "Perhaps we should let your magic decide." He said, leading Coren to the shelves where he kept the ra

rer ingredients. "Stretch your senses out, and bring anything that feels as if it truly connects to you. Coren did, and brought back three ingredients. "Shadow demon hair, drakon scale, and fire elf hair. Interesting..." Mused Garrick. "What does it mean?" Asked Coren.

"Shadow demons are one of the rarest kinds of demons. They are very reclusive, and are one of the very few species of demons that do not choose their mate, but have one chosen for them by magick at birth. Sadly, it is very rare that a demon will find their true mate, and they most often end up in relationships based on the need to reproduce, rather than love. Drakons are a form of demon as well, though not in the traditional sense. They are cursed to remain half dragon and half human for the rest of time, though it has been so many generations since then, they have stopped viewing it as a curse, but now embrace it as a part of their life. Fire elves, however, are different from the other two. As their name suggests, they are a kind of elf, a very rare type. Elves are born any type, it does not matter what type their parents were, they will be the type magic wishes them to be. Fire elves are the rarest type, as they live the longest and are the most powerful. For you to have these three cores along with your wood..." Garrick trailed off, lost in his thoughts. "For me to have these cores and that wood..." Prompted Coren. "Right! For you to have this combination of these cores and wood, you will be able to practice all kinds of magic, some not seen in years unless you knew where to go. It shows that you have a connection to all manners of life and death. You truly are an incredible child.

"Now then-" Chirped Garrick suddenly with what Coren was beginning to think was his trademark cheerfulness, "I believe it is time for you to make your wand. Now, to make your wand you first need to take the wood in to your hands." Coren did so. "Now, feel the wood with your magic. Really _feel_ it, the essence of it, it's magic, and the shape it wishes to take to guide you on your path." Coren did so, and was amazed. This wood was a myriad of different magics, all conflicting in type, yet working together perfectly. It was incredible. The magics soon recognized his presence, and started to sort of _analyze_ what he was. He felt it sensing his magic, feeling the emotions, watching the memories of everything he has been through. He felt the wood in his hands changing, moulding itself to the way it felt would help him the most, to the way it felt reflected him. When he felt a sense of approval, of finality from the wand. He drew back his magic and opened his eyes. He looked at the wand, and gasped.

"Beautiful." He murmured, voice soft. In his hands was one of the most beautiful things he had ever seen. His wand was white with black patterns raised slightly from the surface. The patterns depicted many different scenes, all of them peaceful and light. He saw lillies and a myriad of other beautiful, light plants, groves of trees that even in the wood, seemed to radiate light and life, and all manner of peaceful animals like phoenixes, unicorns and faeries. All of a sudden, the wand's colours seemed to merge for a moment before settling again, this time different than it was before. This time, the wand was pure black with the raised designs in white. In the designs he could make out hemlock, poison ivy, poison oak and other dangerous plants, both magical and not. He saw dragons, thestrals, and shadow steeds. He saw forest after forest of dark, imposing trees. It was beautiful. He was still inspecting the patterns of this form of his wand, when once again, it changed. This time, when it landed in his palm, it was not a wand at all, but a ring. It was split down the center of the ring length-wise. Half white and half black, the joint was a pattern of fire and flames, both sides equal in the amount, neither more dominant than the other. "Coren, I believe you may be able to cast wandless magic through that ring. Also, as it is a ring, it should be resistant to disarming spells." Said Garrick, who seemed to be in a state of shock after witnessing the transformations of his wand. Coren put the ring on. "Whether I can cast magic with it or not, it is still a handy way to keep my wand safe. It fits perfectly, and the feelings I am getting from it with my magic suggest it will grow with me, and not let anyone else use it." Said Coren, proud of his work. "Now, we are not done yet." Warned Garrick. "We still need to put the cores in." He said. "To put the cores in, you must put the wand on the table. Now, pick up the core you want to be the primary core." Coren chose the shadow demon hair. "Now, take the secondary core." This time, the fire elf hair practically flew in to his hands. Garrick chuckled, then said "since this one is also a hair, you will wrap it around the shadow demon hair starting about an inch from the top and ending the same distance from the bottom." Coren did so, making sure that the wrap was even all the way through. "Now, since the last ingredient is a scale, we need to turn it in to a powder, then a paste. Put it in to the mortar, then crush it until it is a fine, thin powder." Coren did, which took him quite a bit longer than he thought it would take. "Now, there are two options. The first option is to use a sealer, which will not affect the wand at all, and the second option is to use some of your blood, which would only make the connection between you and your wand stronger, as well as decreasing the already low likeliness of someone else being able to use your wand.

Coren thought about it. He already had a very strong connection with his wand, so he didn't really need the extra connection, but wouldn't it be best to have that little bit extra, for the harder spells? He decided yes, it would help in the long run. "I'll use the blood." He said. "Alright. Take this Athame and cut open the tip of your finger, good, and now drop exactly 7 drops of blood in with the crushed scales." He said as Coren followed his instructions perfectly. "Now, blend the blood and the scales until they make a smooth, even paste with the same consistency all the way through, no lumps." Coren did so.

"Okay. Now that you have done that, take the two hairs that are twisted together, and coat the middle with the paste, starting about an inch below the top of the second hair, and ending an inch before it's end." Once again, Coren followed his instructions perfectly, using every last bit of the paste.

"Now that that part is done, we need to seal the wand to you even further than it is now. To do that, come over to this basin." The basin was gorgeous, made out of crystal embedded with all kinds of magical woods in the shape of different runes, none of which Coren recognized. "Take the Athame again, and make a straight cut across your palm. Let the basin fill until you reach the top of this rune, the rune of binding." Instructed Garrick, pointing at a rune that seemed to be made out of a rune made of blood, though he knew it was blood oak. Coren did what Garrick asked, though he did feel slightly faint at the end, for while the basin was rather small, and the rune only and inch above the bottom, it was still a lot of blood he had given today. "I know you are most likely tired from all the blood given, but we are not done yet. Let the core and wood of your wand soak in that for seven minutes at the same time, yet don't let them touch. Do not worry, the blood will not clot, it is one of the enchantments on the basin." Coren got up and put the required items in the blood. He let them soak, all the while making sure that they did not touch one another. " Now, using your magic to guide you, insert the core in to the wand, and then let the finished product soak in the blood for an additional seven minutes.

Coren let his magic fill his hands. He had the wood in one, the core in the other. The magic guided him to put the core on top of the wood, so he did. He willed his magic to make the two become one, to combine the two forces in to a single wand with monumental power and connectivity to it's wielder. As he watches, the wood under his hands glowed with a light that was somehow, impossibly, black and silver at the same time. He was forced to shield his eyes, and when he opened them, the core was in the wand. He remembered Garrick's last instructions and placed the wand in to the blood.

Seven minutes later, he pulled the wand out of the blood, and gasped. A rush of power filled him to the brim as he held the wand in his hands. He felt hypersensitive, yet disconnected from the world. He felt that if any more magic went in to him, he would burst from the onslaught of sheer power. _This _was HIS wand. _This _is what he had worked so hard to create. This was the sheer power he held under his fingertips, solely for his use, made by him. He was amazed.

"You should be very proud of your work, Coren. That is, indeed, an amazing wand." Said Garrick seriously, if slightly shocked. "I know." Murmured Coren in agreement.

"There is still more work to do today, Coren. We must finalize the bonding by actually preforming the ritual." Said Garrick, regaining himself and the decisive manner he normally had when not communicating with customers. (At least, that was what Coren had gathered through his listening of rumors through his window that morning)

"First thing first, we need to visit the Dursleys and get their permission before starting anything." "That won't be a problem." Snorted Coren as they walked out the Leaky Cauldron and on to the busy street, hailing the Knight Bus. "They will be overjoyed at getting rid of me permanently." He continued, utterly serious as Garrick payed and they took rather private seating at the back. "You never know," Said Garrick. "They may not be as happy to get rid of you as you think." He continued.

Five minutes later:

"I stand corrected. Those are the most vile, horrid, idiotic, insensitive and _**large **_muggles I have ever had the misfortune to lay my eyes upon!" Shouted Garrick disgustedly as they returned to the shop. "They had the, _the NERVE_ to insinuate that you are a no-good worthless _freak_ after they attempt to lock you under the stairs?! Ridiulous! And the nerve of them, calling me a no good idiot who has the misfortune to work with, as they put it, _no good vile FREAKS of wizards?!_ How did you stand them Coren, _honestly!_ Fumed Garrick, slightly exasperated.

"Why do you think I agreed to go with you?" Coren replied. "I mean, sure, it was only six years of my life, but I _did_ grow up in a cupboard, being called a freak whenever they saw me, I didn't know my name until I went to primary school, and that was only for about 2 weeks before they pulled me out, I was beaten every day, sometimes twice a day, and you're asking me how _**I**_dealt with it? That's just it! I _didn't _deal with it, I _survived _it!" Finished Coren.

Garrick was shocked. He knew it was bad, but not _that_ bad. Beaten daily, sometimes twice daily? That only convinced him further he was doing the right thing.

"Now that we have the Dursley's permission, we are going to head in to a room that I did not show you before. It is my family's bonding room." Garrick led Coren down a hall that they had to walk through a wall to get to. They went through a door, and in to an ancient looking stone room. There were runes all over the walls, giving the walls a very swirled look. Garrick went to the center of the room, and gestured for Coren to follow. "Look at the floor." Was all Garrick said. Coren did, and gasped.

The very center of the floor, which they were standing on, was a circular piece of Obsidian. It was about a foot or two in diameter. Around that was a ring of marble, about a foot thick all around. Outside of that, the rest of the floor was polished granite with flakes of all sorts of gems, metals, and petrified wood in swirling patterns embedded in it. He then noticed that all areas of the room, walls, ceiling and floor, had nearly invisible runes carved in them.

Coren was jerked out of his thoughts when Garrick started speaking again. "This may be embarrassing, but you must strip for this." Said Garrick, while he himself was stripping. "You would do well to get used to it, for there is a school I am hoping you will get an invitation to, and if you do, you will be taking blood magic. I can sense that you have the power for it, and you do not choose your classes there, you take the classes you have the ability for, no questions asked. Before you ask, it is not Hogwarts." Said Garrick. Hearing that, Coren was all to happy to get undressed, not wanting to be embarrassed at a new school because he was afraid to strip for things he had to. Garrick just chuckled.

"Now, hold out your hands Coren." Coren did, not wanting to mess anything up for a bonding as important as this. Garrick picked up an Athame that Coren had not noticed before. This one was different from the one he had used before, the blade looked to be made from pure light and magic. Garrick cut small runes into the tips of his fingers and thumbs, all the same rune. Then he cut the same rune, just larger, on the palm and back of his hand. "Now take the Athame and cut the same runes on my hand. Magic will guide you to do it correctly. Coren took the Athame, and realized that Garrick was right. He could feel magic guiding his hand to carve the rune in to Garrick's skin in the seven spots he needed to. Ignoring the sting of the runes carved on his hands, Garrick reached out with the hand with the runes on it, clasped Coren's hand, and started to chant in a language Coren didn't recognize. Coren was compelled by magic to join in, so he did, though he didn't know what he was saying.

As they chanted, he could feel magic begin to saturate the air around them, then swirling in to embrace them, to comfort them, to join them. All of a sudden, he gasped as the magic tore in to his body, examining it, healing it, and purifying it. He felt a sharp tug in his forehead and mind, then it felt like a presence that he had never noticed was gone. He could feel more magic that belonged to him burst out of it's confines, and the magic of the bonding purified that too. He felt a burning sensation, like something was cutting in to his skin, and looked down to see the magic carving hundreds of thousands of runes in to him. He was just about ready to scream from the cutting sensation of that combined with the burning sensation of the magic clearing him of all imperfections when it stopped.

Him and Garrick fell to the floor, exhausted. They unclasped their hands, and stayed on the ground for a while, waiting for their magic, and the magic in the air, to settle. When it finally did, they stood and put their clothing back on. Coren felt like a huge weight had lifted off of his shoulders. They walked back to the house in a comfortable silence.

"Thank you, Garrick." Said Coren when they had returned to the house. Garrick simply smiled. "Even before we did the bonding, Coren, we were family, and that will never change."


	5. Sorry

I am sorry to say this, but I am rewriting this story. I had it all planned out, but I ended up losing my notes. I continued anyways, but I managed to write myself in to a corner, and I cannot figure out what to do next. This time around, the characters and plot will be more planned out, and the story will hopefully be a lot better. It will be a bit of a wait though, as I am hoping to get at least 5 chapters written before I post it. Sorry!


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